


Haunted memories

by LillithAbendroth



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Blood, Bondage, Chair Bondage, Chair Sex, Dom Castiel (Supernatural), F/M, Flashbacks, German Castiel, Light Angst, Light BDSM, Light Dom/sub, Rough Sex, Sadism, Self-Sacrifice, Semi-Public Sex, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-21
Updated: 2019-02-03
Packaged: 2019-10-14 05:24:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17502425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LillithAbendroth/pseuds/LillithAbendroth
Summary: In Apocalypse world, Castiel found his sadistic clone. Before he could drive the angel blade into his chest and kill him, Dean comes up behind him and stops him. "Cas! No, wait! We can use him to get your grace back" They decide instead to tie him up and drag him back to their world. Upon entering the bunker, Alternate Cas see's a young hunter from this world, a huntress Sam and Dean had saved from a nest of vampires years ago, Eden Thatcher. Upon seeing her, Castiels apocalypse doppelganger drops to his knees and screams her name, desperate at the sight of her. Dean and Sam exchange a confused glance. What history could they have together that would cause such a response? Alternatecastiel/OFC  Warning!: Contains graphic violence, BDSM, and dark thoughts.





	1. Chapter 1

He remembered them. He remembered them all. The pain, the hurt in their eyes, boring into his. The agony, searing flesh beneath smoking tools. The screams. The symphony of screaming wailing into the night like a pack of hungry wolves nipping at his heels, chasing him deep into the inner forest of his mind. 

Every human that he tortured. Man, woman, child…none of it mattered to Castiel. None of it made him feel anything close to pity or sorrow. Nothing but determination. Strict and real. A hunger for their sorrow. He knew it was a sin, the way he felt. He knew it was terrible to be who he had become. 

A scream sounded from the next room, a woman, her voice like an ice pick in his ear drums. “Oh my God! Stop! Dont!”

“God has abandoned us…” He muttered, glaring into his reflection. His voice was thick and guttural, his accent syrupy and thick. He stood in a broken down hotel bathroom, his hands pressed firmly into the tile on either side of the mirror he gazed into, its surface cracked, and faded with age and the shadow of war. The room had a smell of decay and dirt, filth and memories from a world long past. 

God, that was what ‘they’ called him. His father. The absent creator. The one who...what was it that they said? Those...humans? ‘God loves all of his children’

Did he? Did he really? Was that why he left? Skipped out on humanity and all its problems? His own actual children? His angels? This apocalypse?

It was God's will? Wasn't that what they all said? Everything bad that ever happened. All that was wrong in the world was God's will?

Cringing at the thought, Castiel glanced away, staring at the mud caked floor beneath his feet. The cracked tile under his boots. 

Gods will. 

What about his own losses? Eden? The life inside of her? Had that all been a part of his father's plan? Was it really as his brothers had said, was it a punishment to Castiel for the ‘abomination’ he had created with a human?

He could see her, in his mind, even now. Smell the deep, woodsy scent of her long, raven locks. Feel the way her pale flesh goose bumped beneath his fingers as he ran them up her spine, pulled her back against him. 

His mind wandered until it was far away. Long gone from this place. The day he met her, his heaven on earth. 

********

Sam and Dean Winchester.

Sam and Dean.

Dean?

He stalked around the corner, eyes narrowed and mind set on one, clear task. Find him. His only mission. Find and save Dean Winchester. Zachariah had been clear in that. Crystal clear. Dean was to become the vessel. And so, with that in mind...Dean was to be saved at all costs. The apocalypse needed to happen at all costs. And Dean had to say yes to Michael. Castiel's mission was to make sure that happened. 

 

He moved with a quick, quiet purpose. Raphael had come to him with word that Sam and Dean were lying low with another hunter, a young girl by the name of Eden Thatcher, a family friend. 

*

Eden Thatcher had been born into a family of hunters. Her family had been relatively close to John Winchester, and she could vividly remember her own father's broken reaction when he heard the news of his old friends death. Yanking a purple band off of her wrist, she gathered her waist length locks into a handful at the back of her skull, turning towards the Winchester brothers as she secured her wavy black hair into a high ponytail.

Even at 20 years old, the trauma from a life lived fighting monsters had shadowed Eden's piercing blue eyes. Five foot one, her presence was far bigger than her physically.

She had a kind of understated beauty, perhaps it was because she was so alarmingly unaware of her strength. Her porcelain skin was far from flawless, but it shone with an intensity that made her appear to be glowing from the inside out.

Sam sat looking as if he could spring up at any moment, perched like a jumpy tomcat on the edge of her ripped and worn black leather couch. Dean sat beside him, leaned back, relaxed, an opened bottle of beer clutched in one hand. 

She grabbed her own wine glass from the edge of the counter before approaching the living room, holding the cool glass in her fingers gingerly, yet firmly. She brought the beveled edge up to rest against heart shaped lips, taking a sip as she walked. 

Across the room, Dean raised an eyebrow at her, and Sam’s gaze cracked with a knowing smile. Though it was the eldest Winchester that spoke up. “How old are you again, Eden?”

She rolled her eyes and shot him a dagger-like glare, “First of all, it's my house. Okay? I'll drink if i goddamn please it. Second of all, its ice water. Daddy” Her lip pulled up in a snarling smirk as she spat the last word, the inflection in her sarcasm blatantly obvious. 

Dean’s ears peaked suddenly as a cocky, confident smile swept across his face. Sam glanced at his brother before rolling his eyes and snickering. 

“Dean, not everything is laced with innuendo. Show some respect, man.” Sam muttered in a hushed tone towards Dean who was still gawking at the raven-haired beauty in front of him. 

“I’d love to get in her endo, if ya know what I mean Sammy.” Sam sighed at his brother’s complete lack of tact. Sam’s blatant disapproval wore on Dean. “C’mon man, you can’t tell me she’s not a perfect 10! A beauty AND a hunter. That’s something special right there.” He attempted to persuade his brother as Eden came further into earshot. 

Smirking slightly, Eden took another sip of her water before sauntering into the room, making her way towards the brothers. 

“One thing about being a hunter though, Dean?” Her voice was like spun sugar. Silky and dangerously sweet. “My hearing is better than most.” She grinned at him and flashed a wink. “Also. You're disgusting.”

She opened her mouth to speak again, but was silenced by a sound like wings outside the living room window. Eyes narrowed, she turned her head towards the glass. “The fuck kind of big ass bird was that?!” She turned, intending to move towards the front door to investigate, and was taken aback by the presence of a tall, trench coated stranger standing behind her. 

“FUCK!” She screamed, stumbling back with a hand on her chest. His glaring blue eyes bored into hers, and she felt a shiver race up her spine. 

“And…that-” Dean stood up, motioning towards the newcomer, “appears to be...the big ass bird.”

The trench coat clad figure stood before them with a stoic look plastered on his face. He turned directly to Dean.   
“Dean Winchester.” The mysterious figure uttered as he moved towards Dean, his voice was like well worn leather, thick and deep with a syrupy accent.

“Uh...woah, buddy.” Dean backed away, circling around the couch to get away from the stranger. “Stranger Danger man!”

The slender man stopped dead in his tracks looking confused. “What is ‘Stranger Danger’?” He asked aloud. 

Sam seized the opportunity in the strange man’s confusion. “Why don’t you start by telling us who you are since you barged in.” Sam spoke lightly as he moved between the slender man and his brother, silver knife tight within his concealed hand. 

“Yeah, who the hell are you and how do you know my name?” Dean piggybacked on Sam’s quick thinking. 

“My name is Castiel. I’m an angel of the lord...and I’m here to retrieve Dean.” The man in the trench coat spoke softly with no rush or waiver to his voice. His tone only communicated definitiveness. 

Sam looked from the angel to his brother, his eyebrows shooting up so far they were in danger of disappearing into his hairline. “D-dean? Like, my brother, Dean?”

The angel nodded, his eyes flitting between the brothers, and finally, down…towards the girl standing next to them, decidedly shorter than the brothers. 

His eyes bored holes into hers and she shivered, nudging a little closer to Sam, nearly hiding behind her much larger companion. 

“What do you want with Dean?” Sam asked, his voice shaking just slightly.

The angel known as Castiel seemed not to notice the question, his eyes trained on Eden, his stare unwavering and hawkish. Like a wolf descending on its prey. 

“Hey!” It was Dean that broke the silence, his voice loud and booming. Eden jumped, her nervousness obvious by now. “I thought you were here for me, not her.”

Castiel grinned, but his eyes didn't move from her face. Something about her intrigued him. 

“Who is this one?” Castiel inquired softly, focus completely shifted from Dean. Something about this young woman compelled him, almost as if he had known her in some distant past. 

Dean stole a glance at Sam who appeared just as confused as he was currently. “What the fuck?” Dean mouthed towards his brother gesturing at the spectacle in the middle of the room.

Dean’s eyes shifted from his brother to the girl attempting to hide behind Sam. “Eden...You don't have to say anything, alright? Don’t talk to him.”

They stood in awkward silence for a few moments before Castiel broke the quiet. "Your name is Eden?" His voice held a twang of something foreign and far away. 

She nodded, smiling sweetly. "Eden Celeste Thatcher."

"Eden was the 'garden of God' described in the Book of Genesis. It was created on earth as a place of refuse for the first humans, Adam and Lilith." His voice was stoic, almost robotic as he spoke. 

She nodded, seemingly enjoying the sound of his voice. She even stepped from behind her ‘shield'. Moving to stand beside Sam rather than behind him. 

"God trusted Gadreel to guard it from evil. He failed, and Lucifer, in the form of a serpent...caused chaos in the garden. Since Lilith and Lucifer were cast out for their disobedience, Eden has been lost." Castiel continued, still watching her.

It was as if he had forgotten his mission. Almost. He shook himself visibly and moved toward Dean instead. As if forcing himself to move. “Dean. We need to talk.”

*********

"Castiel!" 

The dark angel was wrenched painfully from his bright, joyous thoughts and back into the bleak, dreary landscape of the bathroom he found himself in. He grumbled, blinking slowly, a shadow of disbelief painted across his face like blood on snow. His memories of her were all he had to remember now...and even those were few and far between...

"Castiel! Get out here!" That voice again, but closer this time. Michael. 

"Yes...Coming." His voice was a low grumble in his throat. A hand came up to straighten his collar as he made his way towards the door.


	2. Chapter 2

He entered a large room, a group of his fellow angels already occupying it. In the middle of the room were two newcomers. 

Humans by the looks of it. 

His eyes flickered from a small red headed woman sitting in a chair to his right, and a tall, clean shaven man to his left, hanging from shackles, his feet barely reaching the floor, pulling painfully on his shoulder sockets. 

He knew who they were of course, and why they were there, but that information retreated to the back of his mind like a rat scurrying from a newly flickering light bulb. 

A vibration of laughter rumbled in his throat as Castiel moved forward, regarding the woman first. “Well…” He muttered, looking around. “Look at you.”

She looked away, an expression like disgust crossing her features, and Castiel felt a twinge like pity stirring in his guts. 

Pity for who? Himself….or his victims? It blossomed into an explosion of rage and he felt his muscles twitch in response to her reaction. He would teach her...she would be sorry for underestimating him. 

“We’ve been studying you…”

***

The beam of light flickering in the middle of the room had gone from a powerful, inter dimensional rift, something Eden had thought she would never see in a million lifetimes...to something that she saw more as an anxiety riddled menace. It flickered, flashing like a strobe, only to disappear from sight for several seconds, before the muttered incantation brought it roaring back.

Eden stepped down off the landing, her eyes coming to rest on the table, and the frazzled red-headed witch that sat behind it, one hand trained on the flickering, weakening rift, and one pressed firmly against her spell book, propped open on the table in front of her. 

“Rowena?” The young hunters voice was small, quiet, but Rowena turned to glance at her all the same. 

“Yes dear?” The inflection of her accent made her sound cheery and upbeat, but Eden could hear the exhaustion in her voice. 

Eden took a step forward, her black hair draped over one shoulder, stark in contrast to her sky blue tank top. “Are you okay?”

Rowena flashed her a quick, but barely there smile, “Oh yes I’m fine. It’s under control.”

Eden’s eyes clicked to the rift, its line of light weaker and flickering harder than before. “Are you sure? It looks like it's closing? Do you need help? I can help you, I jus-”

Rowena rolled her eyes and straightened in her chair, “I’ve told you, sweetie...i can't teach you. Dean would fillet me alive if i recruited you to witchcraft.”

When Eden wilted visibly, Rowena chuckled. “Being here for moral support is the best help, dear. But a glass of water wouldn't hurt, if you're going towards the kitchen?”

Eden smiled knowingly and nodded, turning to make her way towards the back of the bunker. When she had gone, Rowena sighed. It had been a long night, using her energy to hold open a rift between the world...and she saw no end in sight. 

“Oh bollocks, come on!” She muttered to the room, narrowing her eyes at the rift, as if giving it the ‘mom look’ would make it start behaving and spitting the boys out onto the floor in front of her. 

Eden made her way into the kitchen, her head low, eyes veiled in shadow behind her thoughts. Her mind raced in circles, spinning and spinning like a carnival ride until she felt she may get sick. She forced the thoughts away, rounding the corner and stepping down into the kitchen with a sigh. Many things had happened before the opening of the rift. Many things she couldn't fix...not now and possibly not ever...so what was the use in dwelling on it now?

She made her way towards a shelf against a far wall, reaching up to a glass above her head, pulling it down carefully. Her heart hammered against her chest, not racing, but pounding steadily, and increasing with every second. They would be back soon...they had to be….they didn't have much longer. Sam, Dean...and even Castiel. 

She swallowed thickly at the thought of the trench coat clad angel, her mind stopping on one solid and unforgiving thought…

He was coming back…

He would be in the bunker again. 

Inevitably she would be alone with him again. She knew Castiel...he would make sure it happened…

He would want an explanation from her, and she would fight to avoid it.... It was a dance they had danced before, carefully choreographed and set to music only they could hear. The truth was, she couldn't explain it, not to herself...and least of all to him. 

She moved with the glass, her fingers dancing lightly over the cool, clear surface of it. As she approached the sink, she heard footsteps, a commotion, and the echo of a voice that was gruff and deep...and way too familiar. 

He was back…

Her hands shook as she grasped the tap, pulling it open until the water flowed into the glass. She nearly dropped it, but managed to grip it tightly in shaking fingers. 

What was this? One night with the man and suddenly she was terrified of him? Had that been why she had run from him? Hid from him? Refused to speak to him? Was it fear?

Fear of him...or something else?

Sighing, she turned off the faucet and turned towards the door. The rough, thick voice of Castiel was replaced by more- many more- voices she didn't recognise. 

Her eyes narrowed in puzzlement, Eden made her way back towards the study where Rowena sat, and found herself bombarded by sights and sounds from every angle. 

“Rowena?” She called, pushing herself up onto her tiptoes in an effort to see above the heads of ….way too many people. 

What was going on? Were they back? And who were all of these people?

“Yes dear?” She heard the witch's familiar voice from somewhere near her left, and turned towards the sound. 

Where the rift once stood, Rowena was now on her feet, her spell book clutched in her hands, pressed against her chest, looking cheery yet tired. Beside her were the familiar faces of Sam and Dean, talking heatedly to one another, and beside them…

She nearly gasped when she saw him, but she averted her gaze as soon as she knew he saw her. Standing beside him, looking as happy as always (if not a tiny bit confused) was Jack, and she smiled at him. She moved towards them, the water in the glass in her hands bouncing merrily with every step, but managing somehow not to spill.

“Sam? Dean?” She called, her voice high in an attempt to be heard over all the voices, moving slowly and steadily through the crowd. 

“EDEN?!” A voice sounded around her, this one louder and abrasive. She looked around, her confusion mounting. 

“Hey...Jack! Grab the-” This voice belonged to Castiel, though his eyes were trained on her and didn't move. She felt his gaze, boring into her like a railroad spike, but she didn't meet it. She couldn't look at him. 

“EDEN!” That voice again, it was familiar and yet so different from anything she could hear before. And where was it coming from. As she watched Jack was jerked to the ground, thrown down like a childs forgotten ragdoll. From behind him, a new figure emerged, and began rushing towards her. 

She looked into the face of the one screaming her name, and she found her breath stolen from her, and she was unable to retrieve it. Castiel? He looked like…

Finally, she looked into the face of the Castiel she knew. Dumbfounded and bewildered. Before she could utter a word, the newcomer was on her, pressing against her. 

“Eden? Is it you? Why are you here? Where-” His hands, bound in front of him, pressed against her stomach, driving her back. Shaking, the dropped the glass in her hands, and heard it shatter to the ground beneath her, but she paid it no mind. 

“Who...WHAT?! Who are you? Don't TOUCH-” She pulled away from him, taking a tentative step back. 

“HEY!” Another voice, this one belonging to Dean. “Grab him! HEY! DON'T FUCKING TOUCH HER!”

Around her, the crowd had silenced and fallen back, watching her and the angel’s look alike as she moved backward, away from him. 

“I've missed you so much.” His hands came up to touch her face and she batted them away. His voice was thick like a mudslide surrounding her, his accent nearly too deep for her understanding to wade through. He smelled of leather, dried blood and gunpowder. She wrinkled her nose at the smell. 

“NO! Don't touch me you fucking creep!” She took another step backward, and a sharp stab of pain flashed through her mind. Forgetting herself for a moment, she looked down. Her bare feet were being drug through the glass. She lifted her foot and watched as a drop of blood fell, splattering to the the tiles below. 

“Ich werde dir helfen” 

The words were like a slap to the face and she looked up, her face scrunched up in confusion. She glanced up to the man grasping her wrists, pulling him towards her now. His eyes...one a cool, deep sapphire pool, the other milky and unseeing. She wrenched away from him, slipped in the water, grasping the wall to keep herself upright, turning away from this familiar stranger.

“No….OW! Don't touch-”The pain in her foot had her vision blurry, her words unable to form coherent sentences. 

“Get away from her!” The familiar roughness of Castiel dove through her pain. She felt the hands on her shoulders fall away...and the smell of the stranger move from around her momentarily. 

Without warning, something heavy slammed into her shoulder, and she went down, her hands falling onto shards of broken glass. She screamed, feeling the pieces pierce her skin. The smell was back again, in her face and all around you. 

“Eden! Dont ignore me! Get...OFF me, human! Hey!” She scrambled to sit up, back against the wall, her bloodied palms held out in front of her face as he was pulled away. Sam towered over him and dragging him to his feet, pulling the stranger back and off of her. Eden looked up into her face as he was drug away. The resemblance was eerie, really...though in this form, the angel had clearly been through much more than the Castiel she was used to...the one who had come to kneel beside her. 

Sam moved away, taking his ‘prize’ with him, though the doppelganger fought and struggled to pull away. 

“Eden?” Jack’s voice was small, mousy above her. “I’m sorry...he got away from me.”

She looked up at him, faking a smile as blood began to well up, dripping from her palms, running in hot rivers down her wrists. “Its okay, Jack. I’m fine.” 

“Here...let me help you” She found herself entranced by a pair of familiar blue eyes, their depths catching her, drowning her beneath a tsunami of emotions. Castiel reached out, his fingers wrapping around her wrists, pulling her hands towards him. “I can heal this. Just come-”

“No!” She yanked her hands away from him, leaving his fingertips red with her blood. “I can do it myself! Don't touch me!” She pulled away, moving until she was sure she was clear of the water and shards of shattered glass. She moved to her knees, shakily getting to her feet. Finally, she turned to face him, though on unsteady footing. Castiel straightened to meet her gaze. 

“Eden, let me help-”

“No!” Through the pain, she balled her hands into fists, shooting him a look that seemed painful and daring all at once. “I don't need help.”

“Eden, please. I’m sorry. Look, I can just heal that, I can-”

“I said no! I don't need help...”

“Just listen to me, Eden-”

“...Least of all from you!”

She spat the words like a bad taste in her mouth, and Castiel shrank back, looking away. Even after all these years, he still wasn't familiar with a lot of human customs...but it was painfully obvious what she meant. He stood, defeated, as she limped away, her ruined hands grasping at the banister as she made her way downstairs to her room. 

Castiel sighed, watching her go. He knew he couldn't help her, because she didn't want to be near him, but what he did not know is what he did to deserve so much hatred from her. 

Behind him, he felt a hand reach out and grab his shoulder, dragging him back. “Cas…” This voice was low and soothing, a voice he knew well. Dean. “Cas….c’mon. We got stuff to do. ‘Salright. C’mon.”

Reluctantly, Castiel moved away, turning towards the eldest Winchester, as he turned Rowena patted him on the arm, flashing him a look of pity and knowing. “Dont worry dear. She’ll be fine. I’ll see to it”

The sorceress moved away, her book still clutched in her hands, following Edens blood trail like a hunter tracking game. 

“What’s going on with you two?” Dean asked, his voice hushed and small. 

Castiel brushed past him without a word. It wasn't something he felt he could talk about, especially since he didn't understand it himself.


	3. Chapter 3

Castiel made his way through the crowd of people, his eyes on the ground, and Dean following close behind. When they got to a less crowded hallway, slowly making their way to Jack and Sam, Dean placed a hand on his longtime friends shoulder. The telltale stiffness beneath his fingers told him all he needed to know. 

“Cas?”

The angel stopped short, releasing a deep sigh, “yes?”

“What’s goin’ on...i thought you and Eden had...ya know” He made a complicated motion in the air between them, “A thing, i guess”

“Well…” Without looking at him, Castiel sighed, “Short answer is we did….and now we don't anymore.” With a shrug the angel kept walking, leaving Dean behind and struggling to catch up. 

“Okay. And i realize that. What i’m asking is why? She...” Dean paused, trying (and failing) to think of the best thing to say, “She seems to...hate you now.”

Castiel stopped, his eyes sliding closed in a look of disdain, as he sucked in a ragged breath. “ Well...all I can really do is say something that I have heard you-” His eyes flicked to the eldest Winchester brother for a moment, and then back down the hallway. “-say on multiple different occasions. I guess I fucked it up…”

Without another word, Castiel came to the closed door. The door to a room that he knew held Jack, Sam...and his sadistic clone. He wrenched the door open, throwing it open with enough force that it rebounded back against the wall behind it and threatened to slam back in his face. 

Jack looked up, startled at the sudden loud noise. When his eyes met Castiel’s, he jumped. He had never seen him look so….homicidal.

“You! If you…” Castiel strode into the room, crossing to the angels trap that Sam had spray painted to the floor. He glared at his otherworldly self, sitting in a chair in the middle of the intricate circle, looking defeated and desperate, his hands roped and shackled behind his back. “...Ever...EVER touch her again…” Castiel crossed the barrier into the circle, his anger apparent to everyone in the room. He knew it would trap him there, with his Other...and he couldn't find himself caring at that moment.

His hands grabbed fistfuls of the fabric of his other’s leather coat, pulling him up until his scowl was just inches from his own angry frown, “I will end your life in a way so painful…”

“Cas…” Dean growled from a place near the door. 

“You will beg for mercy. I will tear your heart out. Do you understand?” Castiel's words were venomous and thick, crackling through the air like lightning. 

“Cas! C’mon! That's enough, lets-”

Dean was cut off by a bark of laughter, this one coming from the figure in the chair, his mismatched gaze staring up at his wrathful counterpart. “You threaten me?” The accent melted across his voice like candle wax, dripping with obvious sarcasm. “You’re weak. Where is your power?” Another laugh, matched with a sinister, wolfish smile. “Have you lost that too? Or is that why Eden wont let you touch her?”

“Hey! You son of a b-” Dean came forward, but was quickly cut off by the sickening sound of Castiel's fist connecting with a jaw that so closely resembled his own. 

The duplicate groaned from the hit, his head whipped to the side from the force of the impact. After a moment he straightened, his lips pulled back in a deadly snarl, something resembling a knowing grin, the blood smeared across his teeth and leaking out to drip down his chin. 

“Tsk, tsk tsk...oh no, poor Castiel...unrequited love is so…” He thought for a moment, a smug look creeping like a spider across his features. “...pathetic…”.

Castiel cocked his fist back once more, this time driving his fist into his copy’s gut, doubling his forward with a grunt that quickly transformed into a chuckle. 

“How do you know her…?” Castiel's question was a commanding bark, but his carbon copy seemed not to recognise it. 

“Answer me. Did you kill her? In your world? Did you torture her too? ” Castiel leaned down, his fingers bending and twitching with his desire to pummel that smug grin until his knuckles cracked and bled. His clone screwed up his mouth in something resembling a snarl, one lip raised over barred, wolf like teeth.

“I’ll tell you nothing until…” He looked over at Jack, feeling the weakness, a will he could easily bend to his desires, “Until you do something for me.”

Castiel growled, turning away, He couldn't leave the circle, he knew that much, but he didn't have to look at that smile anymore. 

“And….what would you have us do for you?” Sam spoke up, his voice smaller than his frame, almost out of place. 

“Well…” His eyes flickered across the room, seemingly considering his words, “Being shackled like this is terribly uncomfortable…”

“Try again” Dean spoke up now, coming forward from his place near the door, arms crossed across his chest, his expression stern and unmoving, “That aint happenin’. Next.”

Sighing, the angel sat back in his seat, rolling his shoulders against the wood pressing into his spine. “I’ll tell you anything you need to know. Anything you ask. But I will only tell it to one of you” Again, a glance toward Jack, before he trained his eyes upon the eldest Winchester once more. 

“Oh?” Dean asked, amused. “And who is that?”

His voice barely disguised the laughter beneath, and he couldn't contain his grin. “Eden…”

Castiel could feel the anger rising like bile in his throat, hovering just behind his tonsils like a sickness, threatening to drown him in it. “I dont think you understood me…” He muttered, glancing over his shoulder at the imposter. “You don't get to touch her….you don't get to look at her...and you definitely don't get to speak to her”

Another laugh, this one sickening in its knowingness. “Oh…It’s too late for that.” his tongue flashed out across his lips, almost as if remembering a delicious meal. “I’ve done all that and more.”

Castiel spun on the spot, turning to grab his victims hair in his hands, tearing his head back and exposing his throat, “Enough! I could kill you right here and be done with it, it would save me a lot of headache in the long run, i can already tell.”

“What's the matter, Castiel?” The monsters voice was barely a whisper, and it caused something to ooze within his fellow angel, something that lay like a sick, sour puddle deep within his gullet. “Are you jealous?”

Something within the clear blue eyes snapped, and the angel blade fell into Castiel's hands, shaking in his rage. 

“Cas!” Dean roared behind him, “Wait!”

*********************

Rowena descended into the kitchen, her book held tightly against her chest. She moved quietly, looking at the scene in front of her. Eden sat against the far wall, a bloodied wash cloth wrapped around on hand, her exposed fingers working to yank shards of shattered glass out of her opposite palm. Tears raced down her cheeks, her breath coming in rumbling groans and hissing gasps. 

“Eden…” Rowena’s voice was quiet, careful not to startle the girl. 

“I-I’m okay.” Her wrapped hand came up to her eyes, swiping the back of her wrapped palm across her eyes, scrubbing away her tears as if to hide them. “It’s under control”

Rowena made her way across the room, dropping her book onto the table as she passed it. “Nice try” She knelt beside the girl, tucking a strand of her hellfire hair behind one ear. “But I don't believe that for a second...here…”

She grabbed Edens hand gently and pulled it away from her face, plucking the wash cloth off and dropping it to the floor with a cringe. She was still actively bleeding, her palm oozing from numerous tiny cuts and scrapes, and a fair share of large, deep looking ones as well. 

“I won't pretend to know why you were so angry…” She started, grabbing Eden’s free hand, inspecting it carefully. It seemed to be the better of the two. Most of the glass had been removed, and most of the smaller cuts had stopped bleeding. “But you were a bit harsh on the boy, love.”

“You d-dont understand” Eden moaned, her head falling back, skull rapping against the concrete wall behind her. 

“That’s right” Rowena agreed, looking up from the girls hands to attempt to look into her eyes. “I don't. But...you could tell me.” Placing her hands in each of Edens, she squeezed them tightly, until the younger of the two gasped in pain, then after muttering a quick incantation under her breath, she released them, the cuts healed, the remainder of the glass tinkling to the ground below like ice from a frozen sky. 

Eden sat inspecting her hands for a moment, unsure of what to say. “He thinks im an infant…” She looked up at the witch, her eyes still leaking tears. “It’s like he thinks I cant handle myself…”

“He’s looking out for you.” Rowena cooed, inspecting the girls hands once again, admiring her handy work. 

“Yeah, well I don't need him to look out for me. I can do it myself. I-”

“Yes dear, but what did he DO?”

Eden cocked her head as if confused, “I told you, he-”

“Yes, we get it. The man is pushy. Are you just now meeting him?” Her gaze was stern and knowing. Motherly. 

“No, It’s just that…” She trailed off, fell silent. 

“You don't hate a man because he's too parental. I saw the way you used to swoon over him, follow him around like a lost puppy. Now you get him and you can't stand him? So I’ll ask you again, hun, what did the poor guy DO to ya? Was it really THAT bad?”

Edens face scrunched up in a look of annoyance and she turned away, her stubbornness showing in her eyes. “Yes! It really was THAT bad!” Her voice held a sour note of anger. 

Rowena scoffed, “Fine. Suit yerself. But i’ll tell you one thing, Eden.” She stood, straightening her skirt as she did. “I wish a man...any man….had EVER….looked at me like he looks at you.”

Without another word, the sorceress gathered her book from the table and sauntered out of the room, leaving the girl alone with her thoughts.


	4. Chapter 4

The days passed quickly, though uneventfully. The survivors from the other world began to become acquainted with a safer world. Eden stayed isolated in her room most of the time, trying as hard as she could possibly muster to avoid every person in the bunker, only venturing out late at night to grab food, and then scurrying away into her hole to hide again. The only one she felt she could trust was Sergeant, her black german shepherd. He had always been there, ever since her dad died...and he was there now, laying beside her in bed.

Though Rowena had healed her wounds, she was in too much pain to feel safe interacting with another living being. Everyone knew now, everyone had seen her break down, push him away, even people from a new world that she didn't know. Her brain was a melting pot of emotions, and it made her want to run...but to where? Even if she wanted to leave, and he utterly, truly alone...where would she go? 

Her mother and died when she was almost too young to remember…and her father? She shook the thought from her head, pushing it away, into the dark chambers of her mind. She had just managed to stop crying after 4 days (5? She lost count) and she refused to start up again.

A tap on the door shocked her and she jumped, a hand flying to her chest, holding back her hammering heart. Behind her, Sargent let out a low grumble, his ears standing at attention, amber eyes on the door. Rowena had come to check on her a few times over the last couple days, as well as Mary. She had turned them both away with promises of being fine and not needing anything, though she could tell as time went on they believed her less. This time, she sucked in a deep breath and stood from the bed, arms wrapped around herself, “Yeah?” Her voice cracked and she hated herself for it. 

“Hey…” A different voice, tentative and seeming almost ashamed. “Eden?”

She moved closer to the door, her hand reaching out to grab the handle, her heartbeat beginning to slow to a less frantic pace. The voice was familiar though she couldn't place it. 

“Yeah?”

“Can I come in?” She heard hesitation, and something else (possibly guilt) in the voice behind the door. 

Sighing, she turned the knob and pulled the door open just enough to reveal the face on the other side. She breathed a sigh of relief. Sam. She pulled the door open the rest of the way, stepping out of the way. 

He flashed her an uncomfortable smile and stepped in, pushing the door closed behind him. “Hey Eden. You okay?”

She nodded, a hand coming up to flick a piece of her ebony hair off her forehead, “Yeah. Whats up? Everything okay?”

Sam looked at the floor, seemingly defeated, “Uh not really. Turns out we need help.”

Her brow furrowed in confusion, “With…?”

“Well...Castiel….the uh-” he swallowed thickly, “the OTHER one. He worked with Michael, so he must know...something...but he wont talk. We’ve tried….everything.”

“And?” Eden started, her face falling into a frown, “What does that have to do with me?”

“He might talk to you…” Sam began, unsure. 

“No.” She held her hands up, a gesture of surrender, “Nope.”

“Eden please. It could be our only chance. We could find out Michael’s weakness and-”

“No.”

“He has information that could be really useful.”

“No.” Her voice held an inflection of defiance, and she shook her head. “He can go to hell….and so can the other one.”

“Eden…”

Behind her, Sergeant let out a tiny ‘boof’ of annoyance and jumped down off the bed, his dog tags jingling in a misplaced merriment. He padded over to her, seemingly sensing her apprehension. Absentmindedly, she reached down, a hand kneading into his pointed black ears. 

“Sam...I just-”

As if a lightbulb went of in his mind, Sam perked up, cutting her off, “You’ll be safe. You can bring Sergeant.” He motioned towards the dog, the animal shooting him a look of disdain matching his owner. 

“Why me…”

Sam sighed, wilting visibly, “I’m sorry we’ve tried everything else...He just won't talk...to anyone but you. He wants to speak to you...”

Her shoulders slumped, “But…”

Sam reached out, a hand falling to her shoulder, “This could really help us...please? I’ll be there every second, i won't let anything happen to you. You can bring Sargent. I’ll ask Rowena to come if you’d feel safer…”

She sighed, a hand coming up to pinch the bridge of her nose, “....I guess…”

Sam smiled, seemingly excited, “That's great. I’ll be there. You’ll be safe I promise. Dean will be there…”

“Okay. Okay. You sold me-” Despite her inner turmoil, she smiled. Sam had always been like a brother to her. She trusted him, quite literally, with her life.

“...I promise, we will make sure nothing happens to you. Even Castiel will-”

She held up a hand, her smile fading into a look of annoyance, “Dont. Stop. You’re gonna make me change my mind.”

Sam nodded, stopping himself, and his own brows knit together, “I…” he cleared his throat, paused, “If It would make you more comfortable, we can ask Cas to….step out for a bit”

Eden shook her head, reached for the door handle, Sergeant standing at attention by her side, “No. Its fine. I'm not running anymore.”

 

****

 

Eden waited outside the door as she had been told, leaning against the wall, her arms crossed across her chest, her mind working in circles. What did he want with her? Why did he want to speak to her so badly? 

Is it possible that she too had a counterpart in the world he was from? She grumbled at herself. What a stupid question, of course she did. It was a parallel world, everyone had a clone, even her. So how did this Castiel know that version of herself? Where was that version now? Was she alive? Was it possible that he had killed her?

She shuddered at the thought, tightening the hold she had on her arms, struggling to force the thought away. Down the hall, she heard approaching voices. At her feet, Sergeant straightened, coming to attention at the sounds, ready to jump up, it seemed, at a moments notice. 

“Sarge…” She muttered, nudging him with the heel of her foot, “You stay. Be good” 

With a heavy sigh, the dog relaxed visibly as Sam rounded the corner towards her, accompanied by his brother and the red headed witch. 

Rowena approached her, smiling sweetly, “Hello dear. I'm glad to see you’re better?” It was more a statement than a question, and Eden nodded, a shaking hand coming up to push a strand of her wavy midnight hair behind one ear. 

“Yeah I’m good.”

Rowena smiled at the response. “Good. Are you ready?” She glanced down at Sergeant, head cocked to one side, looking up at the witch with questioning eyes. “Should he stay outside?”

Before Eden had a chance to respond, Dean spoke up. “No. I don't trust dogs. He stays.” His eyes flicked down to the shepherd, and as if an unspoken word passed between them, Sargent yawned in response. 

Eden shook her head. “No. I won't if he doesn't. He comes with me.”

Before Dean had a chance to clap back, Sam placed a hand on his brothers shoulder, pulling him back gently, “The dog goes, Dean. I said he could.”

The eldest Winchester sighed, rolling his eyes. “Fine...but he stays back. Understood?”

Eden nodded, looking down to Sergeant she flashed a hand signal and he stood, his body pressed against her protectively as Dean turned towards the door. He turned the handle and flung the door open and eden averted her gaze. 

She really didn't know how she was gonna do this...she could barely think about Castiel (either of them, honestly) how was she going to speak to him. 

As Sam and Rowena filed into the room, Eden busied herself with giving Sergeant orders. She nodded her head towards the room, “In.”

He did as he was told, slinking into the room, head low, cautious, his tail dragging the floor. She followed him in, pressing the door shut until it snapped closed behind her. Keeping her eyes on the floor, she moved forward, pointing to a nearby corner. Sergeant did as commanded, slinking into the corner and turning to look at her, sitting primly. 

“Good boy, stay.” She muttered. Moving to stand closer to Sam. She looked up at him, craning her neck in an effort to look up to him. “Where is…?”

He leaned down, speaking in a hushed voice, “Cas? He’s coming. Unless you’d rather-”

She shook her head, as if shaking off a fly or a bothersome thought. “No, its fine.”

They waited in awkward silence for a few more minutes, Eden concentrating on a speck on the floor, refusing to glance up, though she could hear labored breathing ahead of her, and the occasional creaks and moans of the chair upon which he sat. Her heart thumped painfully against her chest, reminding her constantly of how much she didn't want to be here. 

The door behind her popped open and she jumped, moving closer to Sam. It was just castiel, she knew that, but somehow the thought did nothing but make her more on edge. She knew him, at one point she loved him, needed him, wanted him more than any thing or any being in this world...so why did the thought of being in the same room with him now make her so uneasy? 

She thought back to the night in the forest, the night that had changed her ideas of him, and a flare of anger like a roaring flame burned in her chest. 

She could feel his eyes on her, boring into her like a hypodermic needle, pressing into her flesh and threatening to draw blood, but still she ignored him. 

“Alright” Dean was the first to speak, and Eden jumped at the sound. She sighed, angry at herself. Why was she being so damn jumpy? Beside her, Sam threaded an arm across her shoulders and pulled her closer, protective. For as long as she could remember the Winchesters had been her replacement family, and she was grateful for that, especially now. 

Glancing over despite herself, Eden looked to the right and saw Castiel, pressed against the wall where Sergeant sat, rubbing the dog's ears. Sergeant looked content, his eyes closed, tongue flopping to one side, tail thumping steadily against Castiel's pant leg. She narrowed her eyes at him, sighing. 

“You traitor…” She breathed under her breath. 

Dean moved forward, passing the shelves and bookcases, moving into the back of the room. Moving towards a wall to his left, Eden heard the click of a light switch and a bright light lit over her head. 

She blinked heavily against the sudden brightness, and finally looked up, her gaze falling across the one she had come here to see. Her heart jumped into her throat when she say him, her apprehension sitting like a puddle of vomit in the pit of her gullet. She swallowed harshly, forcing the sickness down. 

The twisted version of Castiel sat in a wooden chair in the middle of on intricate circle spray painted in red across the floor. An Angel Trap. She knew it well. Her father had taught her the different symbols and patterns at a very young age. She knew them by memory before she even entered kindergarten. The figure in the chair stirred, his head rolling up from where it lay resting chin against chest. When Eden saw his face, she gasped, her eyes screwing tightly shut. His face was a mask of blood, his right eye (the good one) swollen and shadowed by a rainbow of bruises. A thick gash stood out across his forehead, open and oozing blood. His bottom lip was split, dried blood caked to the stubble on his chin. His neck held bruises and pock marks, dotted with blood. Needle marks. They were draining his grace. 

His mismatched blue eyes fluttered open, though barely, fighting against the swelling, and flickered immediately in her direction, sending a chill up her spine when they made eye contact. 

“Eden…” His voice was like a croak in his dry throat, thick and guttral from his accent. 

Sam pulled her closer, his arm protective and warm across her shoulders. 

“Listen…” Dean started, stepping into the other castiel’s line of vision. “We did what you asked. You get to see her. I did what you asked, now you get to hear my rules, alright?”

Eden glanced up, watching as Dean spoke, and the Castiel sitting in the chair leaned heavily to the right in an attempt to hold eye contact with her. 

“Hey!” Dean snapped his fingers, a sudden, harsh sound, leaning down to his hostage. “Eyes up here pal, listen up!” The angel reluctantly looked up, meeting Deans steely glare. 

“Good.” Dean straightened, “Now listen. You get to see her. Talk to her. She does not have to answer you. You also don't get to touch her. You answer our questions. If you freak her out, she leaves. Get it?”

In the chair, the figure nodded in understanding, rolling his shoulders against the back of the chair, straightening. 

“Wait…” Eden spoke up, scaring even herself, her voice sounding tiny and out of place in the small room. “I want to ask him something first.”

Dean turned to look at her, glancing from her to his brother, eyes narrowed. “You sure?”

Shaking off Sam’s arm, she took a step forward, nodding, “yeah. I’m sure. I need to know.” She cleared her throat, taking another tentative step until she came to stand beside Dean. 

In the chair, Castiel stirred, pressing forward, seemingly in an effort to get closer to her. His bi-colored eyes roved dark patterns across her face, taking in every inch of her flesh, studying her eyes. Almost as if he were seeing a ghost. 

“What am I to you?” She asked, wrapping her arms around herself in an effort to protect from the chill of the room.   
The doppelganger studied her again for a brief moment, before opening his mouth to speak, his voice hushed, nearly a whisper. “Everything.”

She shook her head, “What does that mean?”

He shrugged, sitting back in the chair, watching her with hungry eyes. 

She felt a twinge of frustration, and it showed in her voice. “You don't know me.”

His cracked lips parted in a smile, “I did.”

Eden stood in silence for a moment, thinking. She had figured as much on her own. It was Dean that finally broke the stillness. “So in your world...there was an Eden?”

A nod. 

“And you knew her?”

“More than that” His voice was quiet, barely audible. “I owned her”

Eden shivered visibly as a trail of ice ran up her spine and slammed into her brain with the shock of realization. Either he was lying, or her ‘other’ self was a far cry from what she would imagine herself becoming. 

Behind her, she heard a grumble, and she tossed a look over her shoulder to see the Castiel she knew standing with his arms crossed, leaning against the wall and glaring daggers in the direction of their hostage. Seeing his disapproval just made her want to charge ahead.

“Owned?” She asked, her voice stronger now. Part of her feared what he would say, and part of it couldn't wait to hear it. Was that curiosity...or something more?

The smirk that folded his features was smug and knowing. He nodded, slowly, careful to catch her gaze and hold it. “Oh yes. She…” He thought for a moment before continuing. “Belonged to me…”

Eden stood in silence for a moment, his words washing over her like a tidal wave. When she finally spoke, her words came in a blurted, jumbled, anxious mess. “You….killed her?”

He shook his head hard, snarling at the words, “No. Never.”

“Then what?” The barked command came from Dean this time, looking slightly sick. “You just...tortured her is that it?” 

He shrugged again, and dropped his head, grinning wildly, “Not exactly”

Eden looked over at Dean, almost as if pleading with him to know what she should say. Taking initiative, Dean pushed farther. 

“But you hurt her?”

“Eh” Another shrug, but now he was gazing up, staring into her eyes, daringly. His eyes had her frozen to the spot. “Pain is….relative”

“You’re saying she liked it?” Eden asked, almost terrified of the answer. Part of her didn't want to know, but all of her needed to hear it. 

“Well…” His eyes rolled back in his head like a sadistic beast, the smirk on his face deep and unmoving. He let out a chuckle before retraining his eyes on her, his tongue flashing across his lips as if his mouth was watering for the taste of something he once had. “Not at first...It was months before she could admit that she liked being hit…”

“Okay that’s enough.” Dean muttered, the look on his face as if he were about to be sick. 

“...but after she let go...when she was no longer scared…” The apocalypse Castiel leaned forward again, straining against the ropes and his shackles, “She would beg me to choke her. Beat her…”

“Okay stop” Castiel spoke up now, stepping forward. 

“...to make her bleed...until she cried…”

Eden found herself entranced by his words, unable to stop him and unable to look away. Something in her chest blossomed, roaring to life like a dragon guarding a treasure. 

To her right, a figure blurred past her, covering her view of the stranger, and breaking whatever stranglehold he had on her mind. She shook herself visibly, a hand coming up to her eyes, squeezing them shut as if she could drive away the things she had been imagining. She heard a familiar sound and looked up to see Dean had crossed into the angels trap.

He towered over his victim, one hand entangled in the front of the clones coat, the other balled into a fist and cocked back, ready to strike, again. 

“Stop!” Eden spoke up now, running forward. She slammed into the back of Dean, knocking him forward and nearly off of his feet. “Stop it! That's enough!“

She grabbed Dean’s fist and pulled it down, pulling him back and off of the man. Was she doing it so save him? Or because she couldn't stand the thought of someone she looked up to as much as she looked up to Dean stooping to this villains level?

The eldest Winchester allowed her to yank him back, turned to look at her...no...to look over her. He motioned towards someone behind her, and Eden heard footsteps approach, but she was too busy watching the apocalypse Castiel. The way his eyes bored into hers, almost making her numb, almost bending her to his will.

Almost.

“That’s enough. He had his chance. Get her out of here” Dean’s voice was a low growl, wolfish and daring in its intensity. 

“Wait. Dean why. Why are you hurting him? This isn't-” Her words were cut off by hands grabbing her shoulders from behind, spinning her around. 

Her sapphire eyes stared into the ones that bore down on her and she shook visibly. His eyes, those deep, cerulean orbs, bearing down on her, accusing. 

“Come on”

“Let go!” She shook off his hands, pushing him away, walking away from him and towards the door. 

“You’re leaving” Castiel's voice was a gruff command, and it enraged her. His hand shot out, wrapping around her wrist and dragging her toward him. 

“Stop! Don't touch me! Don't you ever fucking touch me!” Her voice rose until it was a symphony of her anger, a roar like a wildcat. Her hands came up between them, pushing into his chest and shoving him away. “I don't need your help! I didn't need it then, and I sure as hell don't need it now!”

“You’re acting like a reckless child, Eden! You know I did what i did because you were too naive to see what you had gotten in over your head-” Castiel found his words cut off by the jarring sting of a hard slap across the face. 

Before he could open his mouth to speak, Eden was gone, shoving past Sam and out the door, slamming it shut behind her with enough force that it rattled in its frame. 

“One thing seems consistent…” The accent rang out among them, quiet and barely audible, but Castiel heard every word, “She is a firecracker no matter what life she is living…”

“I’m gonna go...make sure she's okay” Sam spoke up, moving towards the door.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter is SOOO damn long. I just got on a roll and couldn't stop...Hope you enjoy nonetheless!

The darkness was solid, absolute in its intensity. Unshakable. No matter where he looked in the room around him, he saw blackness. Like a mother's embrace, a pool of blood, wrapping around him, almost a feeling of safety. Almost.

It closed in on him from every side. Suffocating, like a blanket wrapped tightly across his eyes. He was vaguely aware of the ropes and chains wound around his arms and wrists, thoroughly and effectively holding him in place. 

Around each wrist and ankle, a set of silver handcuffs were securely fashioned, the surfaces warped and carved with various runes and symbols to keep his powers quelled. He was a shell of his former self, even the hollowed out husk that he had become since Edens death. 

Seeing her near, just out of arm's reach, like a dog in a cage taunted with a steak between the bars. 

He could see her, smell the scent of her skin, so familiar yet so different....but yet he could never touch her. Ever. 

She didn't even want to be near him. She cringed at the sight of him, shrunk away from him when forced to be near him. She hated him. 

Entirely. 

His angel had succumbed to the darkness. 

But here, in this twisted, shadowed reality so different from his own post apocalyptic world, he would rather be stuck as a prisoner, able to gaze upon her beauty, then stuck with the memory of her death, gasping and shaking for breath in his arms, as the blood poured from her abdomen, spilling across the lap and staining his buckskin trench coat. 

The same trench coat her body had been buried with. He had scraped away the earth with his own trembling fingers, weeping and sobbing as the rain came down,and splattering the ground around him and shattering him completely. He had stayed near her grave for days, until forced away by Michael and his army. Forced to work, to torture…

Which had been simple enough. 

In his mind, every human he was forced to torture and kill became Michael. They became the ones who stole her from him, and in every scenario, he was exacting his revenge. Doing what he could only dream of doing. Making Michael feel the pain that Castiel kept in his heart as his own, true, physical agony. Deep and burning. 

Castiel could hear footsteps now, beating a rhythm like war drums outside the door, but he didn't dare look up. He heard footsteps often, but it was never anything good. A Winchester to torture him, his alternative self come to return to take more of his grace, adding to the already plentiful needle marks up and down his arms. 

They were using him as a keg, tapping into his essence when they saw fit. Taking and taking but never giving. Never letting him see her. That was all he ever asked for. 

Eden.

He wanted his paradise. 

The door squeaked open slowly, almost tentatively, scared. This hesitation was something new, and Castiel cocked his head at the sound, confused. 

More footsteps, and a sloshing, like water. The footsteps stopped, and he heard a click, and was blinded suddenly as an impossibly bright light shone over head, searing into his cornea with enough potency, that had he been able to, he would have fallen flat on his ass. 

He blinked against the assault, his eyes heavy and watering. It hurt, but he welcomed the pain. At least he could still feel it. Through his blurred vision he saw her, or atleast her outline. She stood outside the circle, her hair waving in tendrils across her shoulders, her white tank top, her cut off shorts and lack of shoes...spiking his memory. He grinned devilishly to himself. 

“You’re brave, mein engel.”

“They sent me to check on you…”

The voice was like a symphony to his ears, a light, fluttering sound, so familiar, and yet...not. It held no note of happiness below the surface. Only pain and disbelief. But it was her. Eden. 

Fighting against the light, Castiel strained to open his eyes, blinking against the harsh fluorescents overhead. He shook his head, his vision blurry. “Dean said I couldn’t see you again…” He muttered, his voice shaking. “And why would he send you in here alone, hmm?”

“Yeah. Well. Sam sent me.” Her voice shivered, “Besides, im grown. I do what I want. They both know that.”

Castiel, still blinking against the brightness, grinned. She was lying. He heard it in the quiver of her voice. He had heard Sam and Dean retreat into their respective rooms hours ago, and the halls had been quiet since. 

Interesting. 

Finally, his eye sight focused and he watched her approach, her combat boots stepping over the spray painted lines on the floor, coming towards him. He found it hard to glance up at her face, lest he be ruined. She knelt beside him, and he found he had no choice to look at her face. She sat a large glass bowl filled with water on the ground beside her, a purple washcloth swimming in its depths. As he watched her, her hands entered the water, taking up the cloth and ringing it out firmly, water dripping down her lithe, skeletal fingers. 

Apprehensively, she stood, one hand hesitantly coming out to rest upon one of his thighs, the other coming up to drag the wet cloth across his forehead.

The memories came rushing back with a power that was like a shot to the gut, he nearly doubled over from the pain. 

Regardless of her universe, she was his Eden...and he missed her so. 

“Sam sent you here...to do this?” His accent was deep and jarring, and she winced. Something about his voice bore into her like an insect, chewing at her and burrowing into her flesh.

“H-he didn't send me...” Her voice faltered slightly. “But I am human, I have sympathy. Even for creeps like you.”

 

He could feel the warm water wipe away the blood trickling down his face.

“The story isn’t everything they tell you, you know.” Castiel winced as she cleansed one of his wounds. “Sure. Maybe I did some unsavory things, but I wasn’t always like that. I used to have something to live for.” 

She was quiet for a moment, bending down to dip the washcloth into the water once more, “They didn't really tell me anything...Earlier...kind of told me everything I wanted to know. Assumed, I guess.”

He watched as she moved back toward him, leaning over him, the rough cloth now running across his stubbled jaw. “What did you assume?”

She snorted a laugh, “You like to torture people. At least...that's what Dean said. You knew me…Well,” She shrugged, “the other...me. You said...And so i put two and two together.”

His upper lip raised in a grin and he cocked an eyebrow over a smoldering blue eye, “And?”

She gulped thickly, her hands shaking, “You said...I liked it.”

“Yes, it’s true. You did. As did I.” 

Eden sat quietly, kneeling beside the chair keeping Castiel subdued. “So were we…? Together?” She questioned, placing the now bloodied washcloth back into the warm water, swishing it around. 

Castiel stared into the darkness, unable to look at his love directly as he continued. The hurt was too much for him. “It’s hard to talk about…”

Moving closer to Castiel, Eden reached out and placed a single, gentle hand on his bound thigh. In the moment, she genuinely felt his pain. 

The warmth and comfort of her touch propelled him forward, just like it used to. “We were happy. I loved you. It was a different time. Place. I was...a different person.”

She gathered the wash cloth once more, rinsing it in the muddied water, silent to allow him to continue. 

“We were even expecting a child.” He paused, looking into her gentle eyes again. “I was going to be a father. I had you.” 

Eden cocked her head, confused. “If we were happy, what happened? To me? To...” She paused, before forcing herself to continue “To...you?” 

“Michael happened.” Castiel grumbled, hatred pouring from him. “He took you from me. He took you.” 

“Michael, the archangel?” Eden asked. “Why would he take me from you?” 

“Because I wouldn’t join his army. Because I wanted to stay with you and be happy. He called our unborn child an abomination and ended its life...through you...with my blade.” Castiel paused, almost unable to speak. It was like if he said the words out loud it made them more true. 

“It’s ok...you don't have to say any more.” Eden moved her hand’s back to his face, scrubbing it clean from the blood and all signs of abuse that were not beneath the skin. 

“He killed you right in front of me.” He paused. “And those are wounds even I can’t heal. You know that trenchcoat your Castiel wears all the time?”

“Yeah.” Eden instantly answered.

“I don’t have that anymore. I buried it with you.” 

She was quiet for a long moment, watching his face as his eyes glazed over, his pain obvious and raw. She felt immense guilt wash over her. She had been so terrible to him...Dean and Castiel had been worse. 

“Please…” His voice was low, his accent thick as molasses from his emotions, “Please believe me...when I say that I loved you. You were...everything I had.”

She said nothing, gave nothing but a sweet, understanding smile and a nod. 

“He took you from me...and then when I came here. And I saw you. It…it was hard for me. I know you aren't the same, you and her...but I couldn't…” He stopped, cleared his throat, “I couldn't control myself. I'm sorry I scared you.”

“Why didn’t you say no to Michael? Why would you help him after he did something like that?” 

With a sad sigh, Castiel replied. “I had nothing left to live for. I was dead inside. I took out my anguish on other people and you’re right.” He said, locking eyes with her. “That didn’t make it right, but the short answer is I had nothing left to care about. He did...” His voice quivered, faltered. “Things to me. Until i just…ceased caring… “ 

Eden released a whoosh of air, a defeated sigh. She couldn't judge him for that. She had never been in love, not really. Her fling with Castiel was…? Well, that was a fling. He had been her first...and...if she were to be perfectly honest, her last. That wasn't love. That was desperate, horny sex. She was infatuated, sure, but his actions in the forest had pushed that away.

But to her knowledge, she had never experienced love. Not really. She loved her dog, Sergeant, but that couldn't compare, and she knew it. 

Shaking the sorrow from her soul, she reached up once more, wiping wetness from her own cheeks. “It’s okay. I'm sorry I was so harsh on you. You're Not a creep. You're just….” She paused, trying to find the words to say, “Damaged. And I didn’t help. I’m sorry”

Finally, she moved her hand to his thigh, patting it gently, and Castiel grunted at the contact, his flesh beneath his pants feeling suddenly...tense. 

“I acted...Well..” He chuckled, “Like a creep. I can't blame you.”

She smiled at him, and he felt his heart skip a beat. The smile caused a stirring, like a snake deep in his gut, and his already stiffening manhood jumped to life. Now? Right now? Now was not the time…

“Let’s just…” She repeated her earlier process, rewetting and ringing out her washcloth, “Get you cleaned up a bit. You can't be comfortable.”

A hand came up, yanking at his tie, loosening it. She pulled it loose and placed it on the ground beside her. The collar of his shirt was open enough that she could see that the lines of blood ran much deeper than she originally thought. She made up her mind. He wasn't the monster she assumed him to be. Besides, trussed up like a holiday ham, what could he do to harm her. 

Grabbing her washcloth from the floor, she threw one shapely thigh over his lap, effectively straddling him. She lowered herself down on his lap, hooking her ankles around the legs on the chair. 

“Don't try anything funny, now. I can scream pretty loud.”

She pulled at the collar of his shirt, and then began pulling the buttons away, one by one, exposing the roadmap of pain below, and rivers of dried blood. 

Castiel chuckled. “Oh, do I know.” He muttered, a smirk passing over his face. Her being on top of him flooded his brain with old memories of when he was happy. When  
were happy. It was also causing his now fully erect member to pulsate beneath his pants. Beneath her. ‘Not now…’ he thought to himself.

Eden rolled her eyes. Typical male. “I’m sure you do.” She muttered, wiping the blood from his neck. “So...uh.”

“Hmm?” 

“What was she like?”She asked sheepishly, working diligently, to scrub the blood from his skin. “The...other me.”

Castiel smiled up at her, feeling his heart race and his bulge pulse in his pants, “Eden? Perfection.”

She snorted, “Smooth operator, over here.”

“I’m serious. Smart, beautiful, generous and caring. She would do anything for anyone. Even me. Willingly and happily. Joyous. She had this infectious smile that...just radiated. I never met anyone like her. Human, or angel.” He cleared his throat, watching her eyes, “Until…”

She glanced up, catching his gaze and holding it, “Until me?”

“Well…yes.”

Her smile was so much like what he was used to that he nearly wept, “You seemed to have really, really loved her. She was a lucky girl.”

“No.” He shook his head, “I was the lucky one.”

She opened her mouth as if to speak, adjusting her seat on his lap, leaning forward to get a better hold...when something firm and hot pressed into her inner thigh.

Eden slid back again on his lap, and then back forward. Castiel grunted at the sudden warmth and friction against him. 

“Uhm…” Eden could feel her cheeks flushing as she realized what she was brushing against. 

He glanced away, smirking. It seemed he had been found out. Hard to hide a baseball bat in a coin purse, after all. “Im sorry. Strictly involuntary, I swear…”

She nodded, leaning back to the floor to re-wet the cloth in her hands. She became suddenly aware of how damn hot it was in this room. She could feel sweat trickling down the muscles on her back. 

When she straightened again, she shrugged, and continued her work, unbuttoning his shirt the rest of the way to reveal lines of taut flesh and ridges of abdominal muscles. She shivered. What was this, Menopause? So many hot flashes…

A hand came up to flick a strand of hair away from her eyes, “It's fine. Dont worry about it. I’m not offended”

She was flustered, and it was obvious, her cheeks glowing crimson, and her fingers beginning to shake as she wiped the blood from his chest. 

She watched as the crimson water running down his chest ran in zig zagged lines across the heaving skin of his stomach, over mountains and between valleys. She suddenly found herself unable to breathe. 

Why now? Was it really all those stupid things he said? The things he said about...her?

She shook her head. It wasn't her. It was...No. That was wrong. It was her. Did he think those things about her, now? 

Was her body reacting to the way his was reacting? Was she panting and gasping for breath because of the way he squirmed beneath her thighs? The way he seemed nearly unable to control himself. She was sure if he could have gotten free at that moment he’d have pinned her against the wall, ripped her shorts down, torn away the thin, white cotton fabric of her panties and-

Her trembling hand betrayed her, fumbling and dropping the washcloth into his lap. 

“F-fuck. Im sorry. I-”

He caught her gaze when she glanced up, held it in a stranglehold. “Are you alright, Eden?”

“Y-yes. I’m f-fine. Just… I’m sorry. Stupid, clumsy.”

He shook his head, grinned, “You're too hard on yourself.”

She threw her head back in a laugh, shrugged. “No. Trust me.” She grabbed the washcloth and swiped it from his lap onto the floor. Without another thought she grabbed for his belt, fingers working quickly to yank the buckle free and pull it away. She fed it into her hands through the loops and dropped it with a clatter to the stone floor below. 

She grabbed at the button to his pants, flipped it open, her breath coming in breathless pants. 

“What are you doing, mein engel?” He asked, his voice low, but knowing. 

“I-I’m helping you. You’re wet and...uncomfortable...and I...I’m just-” She shook her head, cleared her throat. “I-I’m just-” She stopped, glanced up at him through a veil of dark lashes. What was she doing?

Her eyes shifted from his eyes to the straining crotch of his pants and then back again, asking wordlessly for permission. A twitch of his upper lip and a gleam in his cloudless blue eye gave her all she needed, and she yanked the zipper down.

*****************************************

Sergeant stood guard outside the door for Eden. He was doing as he was told.

“Stay here, good boy, okay?” She had kneeled down in front of him, handing him the morsel of food in her fingers. “If anyone wakes up, just…bark or something okay?”

Many strange things had happened since his master's death in the forest, but this had to be one of the strangest. Who was the man in the room? In the chair? With the funny smell? Why was his girl, Eden, so hell bent on going in there?

So he sat here, like he knew he should, watching down the hallway as he cocked an ear towards the door, listening to the conversation inside. She was okay. His girl was okay. She was safe. But why was she...gone for so long?

A long, desperate whine rose in his throat. He missed her… and she was gone for a long time. Was she ever coming out? He whined again, a front paw lifting off the ground, curled against his chest in aprehension. 

 

He could hear a faint set of hurried, anxious footsteps coming down the corridor towards them. The sound was faint and muffled, but he heard it just the same… and a smell. A familiar smell. This one he liked. Like warm vanilla and hot dogs...

“Sergeant?” The man with the long hair rounded the corner, catching sight of him easily. He was happy. He liked this man. This man was nice to him. Nice to his girl. Sergeant wagged his tail

“What’s going on?” He questioned. “Where’s Eden?”

Sergeant whined again, wiggling on the spot. He wanted to go to the man, get pets… but he also wanted to listen to his girl. She wanted him to be here. To stay like she said. But it was so… hard…

******************************

“I shouldn’t be doing this…” She muttered to herself, a hand coming up to aggressively shove a strand of hair behind one ear. She reached down and hooked her hands around the tail of his belt, yanking it free and tossing it to the ground. 

“But...you are.” He pressed her, pushing her forward with his words and nothing else. “Ride me like you used to.” The angel said in a commanding tone. 

Eden felt herself unable to resist. Unable to tell him no. It was like she was putty in his hands, even though his hands were tied tightly behind his back. She wished so badly she could untie him…

She knew better. She knew Dean would have her ass, and not in a good way. She laughed at the thought. 

“What's the matter, princess?” He growled, his voice like the dull rumble of thunder. 

“Nothing.” She muttered, watching his eyes. 

She rose up, her arms coming up to snake across his shoulders, leaning in to him. Tentatively she leaned down, brushing her lips across his. He kissed her back, furiously, pressing his lips against hers as if he were a man on death row, and she were his last meal. 

She grinned against his mouth, her tongue coming out to drag across his bottom lip slowly, tasting him. Her first kiss had been Castiel, of course… The other one… but it was nothing like this. He had been rushed, forceful in a way that became sloppy. This Castiel was slow, yet commanding. 

He owned her, at that moment, and they both knew it. 

He bit down, gently at first, then harder, her bottom lip caught between his teeth, testing her. She would give him complete control, or she would stop him, unable to take it, and he would know just how hard he could push her. 

She gasped after a moment, and he let go, looking into her eyes as she pulled away. 

“Ich tu dir weh?” He muttered, bucking his hips forward, driving into her, his pulsing erection grinding against her inner thigh in a way that was almost painful. Almost. 

“I-I can’t- I don’t” One hand came up, motioning towards her head, searching for the words. 

One eyebrow arched, and Castiel rumbled with laughter, “What's that, babygirl?”

She growled, shook her head, “If you're asking me a question I don't know what the fuck you're trying to say…”

He threw his head back in a bark of laughter, and the smugness was written all over his face. “I said…” His voice was like a threat, low, and unmistakable, “Am I hurting you?”

She nodded, chewing on her lower lip as she rolled her hips into him. 

“mmmph...Good.” He snapped. “You like it dont you?”

Again, a nod. 

“Think of how badly I could hurt you...if you took off these shackles, hmm?”

She shook her head, whimpering, “I can't. I can't do that.”

“I'd fuck you into this floor and leave you twitching and screaming for me, and you'd love it, wouldn't you?”

Something about the combination of his syrupy accent and his words sent a shiver up her spine and she shook visibly. “Yes. I want that. I want that so...fucking...bad.”

“Find a way, kleine Schlampe. Do you want it?”

Nodding again, furiously, “I do. I'll do it. I will. I-”

Her words were cut off by the sound of the door creaking open behind her. She gasped, nearly screamed, throwing herself back and off of him. She had meant to climb off of him and get to her feet, quickly, but what she managed to do was fumble and trip, landing on the cold, hard concrete with an ‘oomph’.  
“Eden?”

She looked up from her place on the floor, where she had fallen onto her ass. “S-sam?” Stuttering, she pushed herself to standing, quickly turning to face him. 

“What-” He cleared his throat, his face flush with embarrassment. “What are you doing in here alone?” 

Swallowing hard, Eden rushed towards the door and past him, pushing him out of the way and looking anywhere but at him. “I just… questioning…” 

“You could have gotten hurt, what are-”

She moved towards the hallway, thinking quickly, a hand coming up to shield her eyes. What the fuck had she been doing? She had let herself get CAUGHT doing it, no less? Thank the Gods it was Sam that caught her and not Dean at the very least. 

“I'm okay Sam, but thanks for your concern. I need to go to bed now.”

She practically sprinted down the hallway and out of sight, Sergeant trotting along beside her, her brain a jumbled mess of thoughts and emotions. She slipped and practically fell again when she got to her bedroom door, her hand fumbling at the knob and throwing it open. Breathing heavily, she disappeared inside, desperate to be away from Sam’s judgemental gaze as quickly as she could humanly muster. 

At the very least, at least she hadn't been caught with her shorts around her ankles…


	6. Chapter 6

Over the next few days, Eden and her bravery had retreated into the confines of her bed room, hidden away from the outside world. She hated herself for being so easily swayed...so broken down and controlled. She hated that that man, tied to a chair, had somehow had the ability to control her completely, like a puppet on a string. She was his to control.

Although...something deep inside of her, some part deeply hidden away in the inner confines of her mind...saw it coming. It was too parallel….too close to what had happened between her and the Castiel she knew from this world. The way she feared him upon their first meeting. The way the fear quickly and completely dissolved away into a deep, throbbing curiosity. 

The way it felt to feel his skin against hers. The way his voice made her melt into a girl shaped puddle, seemingly unable to act of her own accord or even remember her own thoughts. 

She smiled now, laying on her bed, Sergeant curled up against her side, her blue eyes tracing lines across the ceiling. The early memories of her night’s with Castiel. Hiding their unholy love affair from Dean, the fear that he would find out and be angry fresh, still even now, in her mind. She remembered the night she had finally started to trust him. Sam and Dean gone on a hunt with her father, Castiel left with her to protect her from anything that may try to break in. 

*****

She shook her head, barely able to hold back her tears. “Look. You seem to know what you’re talking about and all, but if angels exist…”

Castiel cocked his head to one side, like a dog regarding a trapped squirrel, “If angels exist?”

She blinked, glanced away, “Then that means God exists. And if God exists…” her lower lip quivered, “Then FUCK him! They say people die because of God’s will?”

Castiel seemed taken aback, but nodded sadly, “This is true”

“Then fuck him for taking my mother from me! I was 13 years old! I needed her! I still need her, and she...she…” Eden stuttered, stumbled, blinking away tears. “If God loves me so fucking much, why would he take her away from me? If you can tell me that then maybe you know what the hell you're talking about. Then maybe you aren't lying and I should be afraid of you...”  
During her outburst, Castiel had made his way around to the side of the room she stood on, and at the mention of fearing him, flinched as if slapped. He watched the emotions taking her, her face cringing in her pain. He watched with blue eyes blown wide, concern evident in his face.

“Can you tell me that, Castiel? Can you tell me why she’s gone. Can you tell me why I…why…SHE deserved to die?”

He shook his head, his hands coming up to cup her face in calloused fingers, “I can't, Eden. I can't tell you that….because death doesn't work that way. It wasn't about what she deserved...what YOU...deserved. It's more than that.” His voice held a note of sadness, and she looked up at him, a burning lump of tears in her throat. “ I can show you. I can show you heaven, your mother. Would that help you? Would that help you believe me?”

She nodded, and though fear still gripped her, she leaned into his touch almost hungrily. 

His fingers caressed her cheeks for a brief moment, touching her skin, before they traveled up to her temples. His fingertips pressed into her temples, and she gasped. Her eyes fluttered behind closed lids, and when they sprang open, they glowed a deep, iridescent blue, matched only by Castiel's own glowing orbs. 

She saw a blinding light, nearly painful in its intensity, and soon it darkened to a forest at dusk, the sun giving way to the moon, splashing the horizon in a kaleidoscope of colors, red orange and purple. Beneath the sky, she lay in an open field with her mother, but she was young, maybe 7 or 8 at the most, wearing a stained flowered shirt and worn blue overalls, her tendrils of dark hair spread out across the grass beneath her. 

She saw her mother's face. The lines at the corner of her bright blue eyes, eyes so much like her own, shining with the same happiness they had that night. She saw it all as a bystander, standing back among the treeline, the sound of huge wings beating the air around her. Angels wings. 

“Eden?”

“Yes mama?”

The vision of her mother that she saw, lying in the grass with her younger self. She saw her. Her vision from the past was not the past at all. She was looking in on her mother's version of heaven. Her mother looked up at her, her smile sad, but as comforting as it had always been, “I miss you, Eden…”

She gasped, turned away, shielding her eyes from what she saw, and when she opened them again, she had collapsed in the arms of the angel standing in her bed room. 

“Sh-she saw me.”

“She did…” The voice that answered her was a deep rumble above her. Castiel. The angel...he grasped her wrists, the only thing holding her up from falling flat to the floor. 

Eden was quiet for a moment, breathing heavily, her chest gripped with the pain of her emotions. Shaking, she looked up, and what she saw nearly made her pass out.

The angel standing above her, bathed in the light of the lamp near her bedside, stood beneath a shadow of wings, spread across her bedroom wall. 

Speechless, Eden scrambled to her regain her footing. She collapsed on her bed, sitting in awe of the spectacle before her. 

“This is impossible…”

“What? That good things can happen and that angels exist?”

*************

Torn from her memory and back in her bedroom, Eden sighed. Truth be told, she would have done anything to go back to that night. The night of her first kiss. Her first...time. The night she learned that she could trust him. That she could trust anyone at all. She had been happy then. Everything was easier when she had him. 

If she were being honest with herself, she missed him. She missed the feeling she had always had when he held her, the way she felt safe and like no one in the world could touch her but him. She missed the way it was before he had broken her trust and shattered her world, leaving it to lay bleeding at her feet, her voice screaming into the darkness. 

She missed the way it used to be...but that was gone now. Castiel had ruined it, and she would never get it back. She almost hated him for that more than anything. She hated that they had such a good thing. Such an amazing story that no one knew but them...and he torched it. Now she wanted nothing more than to avoid him forever. When she looked into his eyes, all she could see was the forest that night, the uncaring, sinister way he had struck without a second thought, without caring about her feelings. 

Now she had no one she could trust...and she hated it. She had no one to turn to, no one to help her when she needed it the most. 

She missed him, but it was broken now...so she would take the next best thing. Possibly better…

A Castiel that never betrayed her, and would do anything to have her? Sounded like everything she needed and more. Plus...the accent was a huge bonus, if she were being totally honest.

She grinned to herself, her mind wandering dangerously

With a gasp, she sat up, Sergeant stirring at her side and turning, his amber eyes flashing her a look of annoyance. 

A rumble sounded outside, shaking plaster from the walls around her. Her door shook in its frame.

Swinging her legs over the side of the bed, she stood from the bed on shaky legs.

She threw the door open with a flourish. She heard heated voices down the hall. She took a tentative step into the hallway, confusion like a mask on her face. 

“Dean?” She called, her voice a croak in her throat. She cleared her throat and tried again. “Sam?” 

Hurried footsteps came towards her, and a shock of blonde hair appeared around the corner. 

“Eden!” It was Mary, her eyes blown wide with fear. “Get back in your room! Now!”

“Why, what-”

“Michael! He got through the rift. Go now!”

Retreating behind the door, Eden did as she was told, pushing the door closed with a snap. 

Michael. The archangel that had turned his own world into a twisted apocalyptic wasteland was here...now? Her heart hammered against her chest, threatening to smash through her rib cage and fly around the room. 

Another deafening boom, this one closer. It shook the room around her and she stumbled, falling forward onto her hands, her knees striking the ground below her with a clatter of bone. She grunted from the pain, her hair falling across her eyes like a veil. 

She heard the clatter of nails on concrete, and Sergeant was suddenly by her side, licking her face and sniffing her, urging her up. 

“Sergeant..” She muttered, pushing herself upright, onto her knees. “We have to help...We have to...do...something. We have to-” her eyes ricocheted around the room, searching for something, anything. 

Outside of the room, behind her closed door she heard another sound, a scream. It sounded like Jack. Her heart beat faster, until her heartbeat pounded in her ears, shaking her frame as she attempted to get to her feet. 

She rushed across the room, her hands falling onto her hunting bag. She tore it open, rummaging through her kit. Her pistol, a hunting knife, some rope, a bottle of holy water. She pushed it all out of the way, digging deeper. No. It had to be here. It had to. 

Finally, her fingers touched a bundle of leather, tied with a silver ribbon. This. her lockpicking kit. She snatched it up and hurried out of the room.


End file.
